


Not All Bodies Rot in the Sun

by probablynotadalek



Series: Probably Not Ficlets [5]
Category: DCU
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 20:42:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16541879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/probablynotadalek/pseuds/probablynotadalek
Summary: The monument felt smaller than it should be. Simpler.





	Not All Bodies Rot in the Sun

The monument felt smaller than it should be. Simpler. 

Bruce Wayne had been, before. To the old one. He’d had too, public image and all that. He was photographed staring up at the statue’s face, mouth tight and fists clenched. A Daily Planet reporter noted that he looked like he was issuing a challenge. 

Later he stood with his hands in his pockets and his shoulder hunched, paying his respects to the dead. 

There were a few tourists, but mostly locals. Bruce thought they would have moved on, found a new hero to worship, but the flowers were fresh and the candles still burned. 

“They never forget the benevolent gods.” 

He didn't turn as she walked up next to him. He knew every detail of the solemn face she wore. They both looked at the plaque below them, immortalizing the words spray painted in the early days of mourning. 

“If you seek his monument,” she said, and he could almost see the crease between her eyebrows as she deciphered a language she was all but perfect in. “Look around.” She looked up at him. He took a breath as her gaze lingered. 

“My mother told me stories,” she said, and he wondered if she would finally repeat herself, “about two armies, one depleted to a single woman with a sword raised against hundreds. She would never tell me how it ended, only that there are some fights you win, and some that you won't, and some that continue til you lose all hope. But she said to always remember, when the dawn is come, that not all bodies will rot in the sun.” 

He looked up at her then, a hundred different meanings running through his head. He could have sworn she was smiling.

Somewhere in Kansas a graveyard boasted a hole dug up from the inside which lead to an empty casket. 

Somewhere else a man waited to find and to be found.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before Justice League and then it was going to be a Justice League re-write but I got distracted by Impostor Syndrome (which I'll probably start publishing soon) and realized I'm never going to finish it.


End file.
